Tainted Dreams

by Christi Corbett

  What Theo hadn't yet realized was that America, and now the Oregon Territory, was also settled by men like Jake, and he too deserved respect. During breakfast Theo had let far too many cheap shots fly, but since Kate and the others had been present, Jake had been unwilling to retaliate. Not so now. After all, there was a limit to how long he could hold back his tongue, and fists, against Theo's insults.

  He left the dining room and went into the lobby. Theo stood behind the marble-topped desk Jake had detested upon first sight, in Theo's wagon years before.

  "Kate and I won't be needing dinner tonight," Jake said while opening the navy bag Theo had thrown across the breakfast table. "Furthermore, I'm here to pay in advance for the next week on Kate's room, and space in the livery for four horses."

  "Where's Kate?" Theo asked.

  "Upstairs packing," Jake said evenly. "Now, back to something you should actually be concerned with—will you hold Kate's room while she's gone?"

  "Of course," Theo said, punctuating the disparaging remark with a withering glare.

  Jake withdrew a handful of coins into his palm, eyed them briefly, then tossed a few onto the desk.

  Theo cupped his hand around the payment, slid them into his other hand, and slipped it all into his pants pocket. "I won't bother counting this now, since you've always made such a spectacle of doing the right thing."

  Jake shook the bag in his hand, raising his eyebrows as the remaining coins clinked against each other. "I won't bother counting this now, since I know where you sleep."

  He took simple pleasure in seeing Theo's hand quiver as he needlessly smoothed back his hair.

  "I've already sent word to the blacksmith, and the door lock on Kate's room will be repaired by the end of the day," Theo said.

  Jake gave a simple, quick nod at the news. Once again, he was grateful that he'd opted to publicly eliminate any chance at sharing her room again. Sliding those shirts in front of her pleading eyes and willing lips had taken every ounce of control he'd been able to muster, and removing himself from temptation seemed like the best option. Though he wasn't positive he could resist a similar invitation again.

  "I might have a room available for you upon your return," Theo said, a smirk playing across his lips. "Though, given how I saw you sneaking out of Kate's room early this morning, I doubt you're interested."

  Jake attempted a nonchalant shrug at Theo's revelation, but was furious with himself at getting caught. He never should have agreed to stay in her room, no matter the reason.

  "I'd rather sleep in a rainstorm than under your roof for another night," he replied, his tone leaving no mistake about his rising anger.

  "What about Kate? I'm surprised at how a woman of her social stature is willing to abandon the comforts of civilization again so soon after leaving the trail. Perhaps she'd like to instead send a messenger out to Champoeg and remain here in my hotel, surrounded by the luxury she undoubtedly was born and raised into."

  "Kate handles her own business affairs, and unlike you, she understands transporting useless luxury often comes with too high of a price." Jake thumped his knuckles against the top of Theo's desk, and then pointed to the groove near the corner. "Or have you already forgotten the day that happened?"

  "I'll never forget the day your incompetence led to my property sliding around the back of my wagon."

  "How fortunate for your desk that Collette's leg broke its fall. I'm certain her life-long limp and empty arms won't ever let her forget about that day—the day you chose your property over the wellbeing of a fellow traveler."

  Years ago, on Jake's first trek across the trail, an enceinte woman had grown so tired from the constant walking that she couldn't keep up with the others and risked being left behind. Given that her wagon was overflowing with needed supplies, Jake had insisted she be allowed to ride in the back of Theo's wagon, and his beloved desk be left behind trailside. Theo had fought hard against Jake's order, arguing that Collette could either squeeze into a small space beside the desk, or ride with someone else.

  Eventually Jake had relented—a decision he'd regretted ever since.

  Later that same day Theo had ignored Jake's orders to slow his oxen, and ultimately driven his wagon too fast around a sharp curve. One of the front wheels had slipped from the path, the load had shifted, and the desk had slammed into Collette's leg.

  Jake closed his eyes, remembering the woman's guttural screams as he and two other men—neither of them Theo—had frantically worked to free her.

  She'd lost the baby three days later.

  "I'm not heartless," Theo said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I tried to give her and her husband something to make up for what happened, but nothing was good enough. Not a platter made of the finest silver, not a brass headboard, or a mahogany chair with a seat cushion of the finest silk. However, they refused everything I generously suggested. Except money, of course. They took the money I finally thought to offer."

  "Seems more like a payoff to guarantee their silence."

  "You're wrong, as usual," Theo said, stepping from behind the desk. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have something pressing I need to attend to."

  "Where are you going?" Jake asked.

  "To ask your lady friend, Kate, to have dinner with me upon her return to town. I intend to impress upon her all I can provide, including a wagon and driver, should she choose my companionship the next time she needs to travel again."

  "She'd never choose a man like you."

  Theo scoffed. "Who she spends her time with is her own choice. And, since I've confirmed she's not otherwise engaged, I figure her time is fair game."

  Blood pounded in Jake's ears and he had to fight to keep his voice under control. "Stay away from her."

  Theo placed a hand over his heart as his lips turned downward into an exaggerated frown. Someone who didn't know this man would believe him consumed by grief, especially once his chin began to quiver.

  Jake knew better.

  "You don't have to worry about me," Theo said, his eyes wide with feigned innocence. "I'm just a harmless man who lost his wife and decided to start his life over in Oregon Territory."

  "As I recall, 'decided' is a stretch." Jake's eyes narrowed. "You can go on twisting the tales of why you left Boston, but you and I know the truth. Remember, I was there the day you pleaded your case to join the wagon train." Theo had fled his hometown of Boston in the middle of the night, his reputation in shambles due to losing his wife’s family fortune at the card tables. "Theo, right now you still appear honorable to the influential men of this town. Wouldn't want to have John McLoughlin or anyone else knowing what you're really like, would you?"

  Theo's nostrils flared, but he stayed silent.

  Jake leaned down until he was eye to eye with the man. "Kate is off limits to you. Find another pretty woman to impress with your lies."

  To Jake's surprise, rather than fleeing from the room, Theo's expression turned from fearful to triumphant. "Speaking of a pretty woman, Emily Bird stopped in here late last night."

  Jake held back a grimace. Likely Theo had invited Emily—the saloon girl who'd called him by name as he'd ridden by on the street below—to act as his bedroom companion for the evening. Even more likely, it had been a prearranged meeting, set up long before Jake's return to town. Neither of which bothered him in the slightest. The woman was trouble, always had been, and he wanted nothing to do with her.

  "What you do on your own time is not my concern," Jake replied.

  "Oh, but it is your concern." Theo's lips stretched from a smirk to a wide grin. "Emily came by specifically to see you. Perhaps I'll mention to Kate your—" he paused, savoring his victory for a moment before continuing, "—familiarity with Emily, so she can know what you're really like."

  This time it was Jake's turn to stay silent.

  "Seems Emily knows you're back in town and was checking if you were staying in my hotel. Of course, I happily confirmed her assumption. Though I didn't mention how yo
u'd slept in another woman's room. I figured the poor dear suffered enough the last time you snuck out of town, leaving her to realize you'd been giving her and her kind nothing but coins and empty promises."

  Jake struggled for control, to remain steady and not reveal even a glimmer of the fear now running rampant through his mind. Fear of what Emily's interference, no doubt guided by Theo, could do to the life he had planned with Kate.

  Theo continued. "From the moment we met you were demanding and demeaning. However, we're not on the trail anymore. So it goes without saying—almost—how thrilled I am to find myself as the one with power and knowledge."

  An eerie calm took hold of Jake, allowing him to clearly consider the familiar footsteps he heard coming down the stairs. Kate had seen him fight a man once, and though it had been for a good reason, he had no intention of subjecting her to such physical violence again.

  Instead, he opted to lean close and speak low. "You're a spineless coward, and always will be. You might think you have power now, but I'm confident one day your true colors will be revealed to this town. One way or another."

  Kate entered the room, her saddlebags slung over her shoulder and Elijah's hat clutched in her hand.

  "Ready?" she asked, her shining eyes and shifting feet betraying her impatience.

  Jake nodded, then turned to Theo. "We'll finish our discussion later."

  He held out a bent elbow to Kate, who took it with practiced ease, and he led her out of the hotel.

  Chapter Eleven

  A Crushing Blow

  Saturday, November 11, 1843

  Kate rode into the settlement of Champoeg with Jake at her side and the familiar butter-yellow envelope hidden deep within her pocket. At the end of the main street sat the land office, a weathered building that held the details of all claims made in Oregon City and the surrounding area.

  Though the trail had taken nearly everything from her, two shining glimmers of hope had survived. Deeds that were the key to her new life—a life that would begin the moment she learned the locations signified by the strings of numbers scrawled across the top of both papers.

  They secured the horses at the hitching post and then headed for the door. Jake knocked twice to announce their arrival and then pushed it open, revealing a room with a sagging cot on one side and a freshly polished stove on the other. A wrinkled man with a trim white beard stood up from his desk, walked over, and clapped a hand on Jake's shoulder.

  "Jake! What a surprise!"

  "Kate, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine, Jim."

  "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am." Jim nodded to her and then motioned to two scratched but sturdy oak chairs opposite his desk. "Please, make yourselves comfortable."

  Jake pulled out her chair and waited until she was settled before sitting beside her. After they'd exchanged a few rounds of inane chatter about the weather, Jim rested his elbows on the desk and laced his fingers together.

  "What can I do for you today?"

  Kate dried her palms on her trousers and took a deep, calming breath before speaking the words she'd waited over four months to say.

  "My father purchased a building in Oregon City and a house two miles outside of town. I'm here to learn their locations."

  "I don't understand," Jim said. "Why didn't he get this information when the claims were first made?"

  "He bought the deeds in Virginia, from a man who'd changed his mind about living in Oregon Territory." She slid a trembling hand into her pocket and withdrew the butter-yellow envelope with the red wax seal. Tucked inside were the two pieces of parchment paper that represented her father's dream for the rest of his life.

  And now his unfulfilled dream was hers.

  Her house. Her land. Her future.

  "I see you've got something there," Jim said. "Let me take a look."

  She set the first paper—the one she surmised was the deed to the store—into Jim's extended hand.

  He pulled the oil lamp closer and leaned over the desk, peering at the paper with a deepening frown. After a long moment he pressed and slid his thumb over the numbers written at the top, grimacing at the smear of ink left behind.

  "Jim, is there a problem?" Jake asked.

  "The plot numbers don't match anything I've ever seen and the wording is all wrong. Give me a minute." With the paper in hand, Jim crossed the room to inspect three plot maps nailed to the wall.

  While they waited, Jake placed a calming hand upon her bouncing knee and gave her a reassuring grin—a grin that slowly faded when Jim resumed his seat with a heavy sigh.

  "I'm sorry, ma'am, but this deed is forged. It's worthless."

  "Forged?" She stared at him in horror. "Are you certain?"

  "Without a doubt." Jim emphasized the point with a slow, sympathetic shake of his head. "Article Four of the Law of Land Claims clearly states that no person is entitled to hold a claim upon city or town sites. Looks like someone took your father for a fool."

  "How is this even possible?" asked Jake, who looked as stunned as she felt.

  "Ruthless men will take advantage of every loophole out here, and then some, until there's a solid system of land laws and government in place. Unfortunately, I fully expect to see a lot more people in your situation." Jim shrugged as if already resigned to future deceit. "I wish I could offer more than my apologies, but unless you know who sold it to your father there's nothing I, nor anyone else, can do." He slid the paper back across the desk and waited patiently while she refolded and returned it to the envelope.

  Blinking back tears, she held out the second deed. "And this one?"

  Jim took the parchment from her and inspected it closely before again rising to stand before the maps. Flattening the paper against the wall with his left hand, he traced a thin, wandering line on a map with his right index finger.

  "Now this one seems legitimate." He glanced between the deed and the line several times before shaking his head. "However, I can't say for certain since I don't have the corresponding map." Deed in hand, Jim returned to his seat. "Where are you two staying?"

  "Oregon City," Jake replied. "We just got in a few days ago, and headed out here after someone advised us this office could determine the locations represented by the deeds."

  "We've got a man up there opening an office near the mercantile in about a week. Actually—" he paused, shuffled papers around on his desk until he found what he wanted, then nodded, "—he's opening next Saturday. He'll have information I don't have. Metes and bounds maps of the area with notes on specific landmarks, registration information, things of that nature."

  "I still don't understand how one deed could be fake and the other one real," Kate said, grasping to comprehend.

  "Remember, I'm still not certain it's real," Jim cautioned. "Though, if I were a betting man I'd say you've got yourself a valid claim. As for how it happened, I'd guess whoever sold those to your father probably realized more deeds meant more money, and drew himself up a convincing forgery, using the real one as a guide. Selling them back east was an especially brilliant aspect of the scheme—it's improbable your father, or any other victims, will ever risk the return trip for a confrontation."

  Jim's eyes narrowed and he focused a probing gaze on Kate. "Why isn't your father here asking these questions? I'd prefer to discuss these issues with him."

  "He died on the trail." She didn't yet know whether to take comfort or feel shame that those words no longer brought on an immediate rush of sadness.

  "Well, that changes things," Jim said, dismissing Kate with a curt nod and turning to Jake. "If her father's deed is valid—and again, I suspect it is—the land claim should transfer over to you with minimal trouble."

  "Why would it go to Jake?" she asked.

  "Well, it was your father's and now it will go to you and your husband," Jim said.

  The hair on the back of Kate's neck stood on end and she had to force herself not to soothe away the goose bumps rising on her arms. "He's not my husband."

&nbs
p; "I apologize for the incorrect assumption," Jim said, raising placating palms in the air. "Are you married?"

  "Why are you asking me this?" Kate's voice was little more than a whisper as she fought back rising dread, and the realization that even thousands of miles from home, in an unsettled land, gender still took precedence over the willingness to work hard.

  "Because if your father is dead and you don't have a husband, your claim is worthless." Jim paused, his brows furrowed in confused concentration. "At least, I think that will be the case. Right now we're only a territory and not officially part of the United States and their laws, but the precedent has already been set so it's a solid assumption."

  As fury overtook dread, Kate's fingernails pounded an angry rhythm on the desktop, inches from the deed. "So your conclusion—even though there is no law in place confirming it, and I have a deed in hand that you assert will be valid—is I have no right to this land because I'm a single woman."

  Jim let out a frustrated sigh. "Unfortunately, yes."

  Kate clasped her hands so tightly her fingers went white in places and red in others. Memories of time spent in her aunt's parlor back home in Virginia rushed through her mind. The parlor where she'd been reminded weekly of society's expectations for a woman of her standing. The parlor she'd spent her youth wishing to escape.

  And now that she had escaped, sacrificing nearly everything along the way, she was again ruled by stifling laws and obligations. Jake hadn't asked for her hand—and showed no intention of doing so—which meant her future would entail a life similar to Clara's, forced to work toward the dream of another instead of her own.

  Aunt Victoria had been right after all.

  Two years ago, Kate had engaged in a rousing discussion with her aunt regarding the theories behind Machiavelli's treatise, The Prince. At the time Kate had been vehement in declaring her disgust at many of the ideas, but now one concept in particular made perfect sense. Sometimes, the end justified the means.